


In Which the Wolf Always Knows

by kettish



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, F/M, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:07:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22109089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kettish/pseuds/kettish
Summary: Shiro and Keith are trying, and it's a trying experience, and Kosmo is a good boy.Secret Santa 2019
Relationships: Allura/Lance (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 183





	In Which the Wolf Always Knows

“Keith, fuck, please,” Shiro groans from underneath him. Keith rises and falls yet again, bouncing on Shiro’s cock at his leisure, and doesn’t speed up one whit. They’ve been at it for ages, it seems like, but in reality it’s only been--Keith looks at the bedside clock--thirty minutes. It’s a respectable amount of time, but he’s too caught up in the way Shiro’s cock feels, shoving in and dragging back out, to care. It’ll be delicious when he finally seats himself fully, taking in Shiro’s knot, but he likes to take his time when they can. 

“Baby, please, I can’t--I need to--” Shiro pleads. His hands grip Keith’s hips hard enough to bruise, and Keith finally takes pity on him; his thighs are starting to get fatigued, anyway. He eases down, relishing the burning stretch, the ache in his hips and ass. 

There’s a snarl of a sound from Shiro’s throat, and it’s the only warning before Keith’s world tilts and he’s suddenly face down in the bedspread. Shiro covers him, chest to back, and laces their fingers together, and proceeds to rail him into the mattress. Shiro’s too far gone to pull his knot back out to really fuck him, but he tries his best--and his best is pretty good, so far as Keith’s concerned. It leaves Keith gasping and groaning, dick exploding untouched as he just tries to stay upright. It ends abruptly as Shiro slams his hips into Keith’s one last time and presses up against him, coming hard deep inside him.

“Jesus, Keith,” Shiro pants against his back as they wait for their heart rates to settle. He guides them both to lay comfortably, stuck where they are for the moment, and pets down Keith’s ribs to his waist to his flank. After a while, when their breathing is even again, he asks, “You trying to kill me, sweetheart?”

“Only a little.” Keith’s tone is smug from where it’s muffled by the linens. “Besides. If you’re going to get knocked up, you should make it memorable. Right?”

Shiro bursts out laughing, then hisses abruptly as his knot pops free and his oversensitive dick brushes against Keith’s ass. On instinct he slaps a hand over Keith’s entrance, trying to keep everything contained, then grabs a pillow to prop up under Keith’s hips. Before heading to the restroom he lays a kiss on Keith’s forehead with the promise, “Be right back.”

They’ve been trying for approximately--Keith looks at the clock again--an hour now, and Keith is hopeful. Shiro’s healthy as a horse, Keith is as healthy as an alien horse, and with the war over, their relationship settled, and retirement coming up for the Admiral...they’d decided it was time. Shiro trots back in with a washcloth and a bottle of water that Keith won’t be able to drink laying down, but it’s the thought that counts.

  
  


A few months later, Keith still isn’t pregnant, and it’s beginning to wear on everybody’s nerves. Every test has come back negative, Keith is stressing out, Shiro’s frazzled and disappointed, and Kosmo won’t fucking leave Keith alone. He wants five minutes without Shiro bringing up yet another old wives tale he heard from a crew member or Kosmo sticking his stupidly cold and damp nose in his shirt and he’d like to just get pregnant already so they can get with the parenting.

But that doesn’t happen, of course. What happens is that one day, they’re on the bridge, watching a new alien culture’s initial check-in. Kolivan and a few of the higher-ranked Blades are there with them, keeping an eye on the proceedings. Kosmo couldn’t be persuaded to stay home or go elsewhere, and is still standing obnoxiously close to Keith’s hip, grating on Keith’s nerves, and Shiro pipes up.

“You know, Sergeant Reeves’ grandmother says that if you drink cough syrup it helps with conception.”

Keith has had it. Shiro has suggested a lot of things: propping up his hips, laying off exercise, exercising more, trying to stress less, eating certain foods--but this takes the cake. This is the worst suggestion he’s heard yet, and Shiro isn’t a stupid man--he should know better. And he doesn’t. He isn’t even fact-checking these first, Keith bets, and isn’t that fantastic? Shiro doesn’t even care enough to fact-check them first. It all winds up, tightening his chest and making his eyes and throat burn shamefully.

“NO, Shiro!” Keith snaps, loudly, and the bridge goes quiet.

“Keith--” Shiro starts to say, clearly taken aback, and Keith doesn’t let him finish. He exits, stepping smartly off the bridge and down the hallway, all the way to his quarters. There’s a pop of displaced air as Kosmo catches up with him and then the tapping of his claws as he follows, and then the bridge is silent.

Shiro has no idea what just happened, and he’s closing out his work hastily to go after Keith when Kolivan speaks up.

“You should stop planning for the next kit before this one even arrives,” he says. There’s deep disapproval in his tone, ice that Shiro hasn’t ever heard directed his way before. That on its own is confusing, but added to the actual words…

“We aren’t?” he says, and immediately frowns at how it comes out more question than statement. More firmly, he repeats, “We aren’t.”

Kolivan narrows his eyes at him, contemplative, and then steps close enough to sniff at Shiro’s shoulder. He straightens slowly, not bothering to get completely out of Shiro’s space, and looks down at him intimidatingly. Shiro stares back up at him. He’s locked gazes with larger beings than Kolivan, though only a few who were more dangerous, and none so dangerous that were (previously?) allies.

“You are,” Kolivan says. “And you will stop harassing my Blade while he is carrying, or you will answer to his mother.” 

“Keith isn’t carrying!” Shiro snaps. Kolivan snorts, and one of the other Blades makes a sound of disbelief. It’s that which really makes Shiro doubt; it wasn’t just Kolivan that thought so? “How would you know?”

“His scent screams it.” Kolivan’s tone mellows, and he straightens the rest of the way to look down at Shiro. One eyebrow pops up. “You were not aware.”

“I was not.” They’d been using over the counter tests. Fuck. Of course. Keith was only half human...why hadn’t they thought to…? Dawning exhilaration begins to thrum in his veins. Keith is pregnant. They’re going to have a kid after all. “Excuse me.”

Kolivan let him rush off, this time. Shiro had an apology to make, enthusiastically, and several times if Keith allowed it. (He did.)

  
  


Five months later Shiro and Keith hold their baby for the first time, and Kosmo finally leaves Keith’s side with a tired huff. He’s done nothing but dog Keith’s footsteps the rest of his pregnancy, snuffing at his tummy, and sometimes even outright growling at people he doesn’t approve of; Keith can admit he enjoyed the attention once he understood what was happening. Now, apparently, he thinks his job is done, and he flops down in a corner of the room with a pleased look.

“He’s adorable, you two,” Allura breathes, barely touching one of the baby’s soft cheeks with the tip of her finger. Lance coos in agreement, chin hooked over her shoulder as he touches one of the baby’s toes. Pidge is leaning back on the bed by Keith, Hunk is peeking over Shiro’s shoulder at their daughter, and Coran is sobbing in a corner.

Kosmo’s nose twitches, and he picks up his head and looks around, then heaves a heavy sigh. Keith twists to look over at him, concerned, and watches in growing confusion as the wolf ambles over to Allura--

\--and the room erupts as Kosmo plops down to sit by her, and shoves his nose under her shirt to snuff at her belly.


End file.
